Lonely man waits
For love that never comes
Misunderstood
He watches as the people walk
Going somewhere;
Seeing someone,
Someone who cares
The man stares
Colours pour on to the canvas
He shows through the painting
Who he really is
a genius quarantined
From society
Because the world will never be
Reading to study his art
And comprehend his sorrow
So he turns to his friend,
Absinthe.
